Points of Divergence
by Justpucky
Summary: This Work consists of a number of unconnected one shots where Harry was more observant than cannon. He knows nobody will take care of him, so he stands up for himself just a little more. If anybody wants to continue this points of departure into a full length story feel free. Let me know and I'll update the one-shot with the related story information.
1. Not My Magic

**Disclaimer:** The stories on this site are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. Seriously. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Rowling wasn't consistant in her portrayal of Harry, either he was neglected and downtroden. Being a boy who did't try in school, clung to his first friend even when he turned out to be a lazy bully. Or he was a pure hearted avenger who would risk his life and charge in to protech the school and the world. He was very observant at Private Drive, but completely oblivious at Hogwarts.

Point of Divergence: Chapter 17 HPGOF.

**Not My Magic.**

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" He asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"_No," _said Harry vehemently. ~ p. 276 HPGOF American Paperback version.

* * *

"Thank-you, for the complement Professor Snape; to believe so strongly that I, a 14 year-old boy in the middle of my schooling would have enough knowledge and power to defeat Albus Dumbledore, Defeater of Grindlewald's protections around the Goblet." Harry then turned to Professor Dumbledore. "Will you now tell us who entered my name into the tournament? You personally scribed the age line, and as head master held the wards and the loyalty of the portraits and ghosts. You've proven your knowledge of the antics at Hogwarts in my past school years. You know what happened. Set the record straight."

"I'm not omniscient Harry; I do not know everything that happens here." Dumbledore calmly responded.

"No, not omniscient, but such an important event; not only for Hogwarts, but for the wizarding community of Europe, either you or the ministry would have been closely monitoring it for foul play. The fact that you refuse to name the culprit leads me to believe that just like in previous years, you either instigated this 'adventure' or are complicit in it's continuation." Harry turned to the Ministry observers. "How is the contract enforced?"

"The Goblet tastes your magic when you place your name in the running. If you refuse to participate breaking the contract you loose your magic." Mr. Crouch stated.

"Well I didn't place my name in the Goblet, so it's not my magic that has registered." Harry clearly replied.

"Contracts can be bound to your name as well." Diggory contributed.

"Well, Dumbledore called out Harry Potter, and while that is the name the public attached to my fairy tale, that is not my full legal name. So I'm refusing to participate. When the first task begins we can find out who losses their magic and we'll know who attempted to kill me this time." Harry said as he turned and walked out of the room.


	2. Oops, HP and the contaminated potion

**Disclaimer:** The stories on this site are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. Seriously. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Rowling wasn't consistant in her portrayal of Harry, either he was neglected and downtroden. Being a boy who did't try in school, clung to his first friend even when he turned out to be a lazy bully. Or he was a pure hearted avenger who would risk his life and charge in to protech the school and the world. He was very observant at Private Drive, but completely oblivious at Hogwarts.

Point of divergence: Chapter 32, HPGOF.

**Oops, HP and the contaminated potion.**

'Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"_Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"_

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the Cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, think, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"_Flesh – of the servant - w-willing given – you will- revive – your master."_

He stretched his right hand out in front of him – the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realize what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened – he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look. . . but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids. . .

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Hot until Harry felt Wormtails's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.

"_B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken . . . you will . . . resurrect your foe."_

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied to tightly. . . . Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt it pint penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, fumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it in Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.'

~ P. 641-642 HPGOF, American paperback edition.

* * *

As Harry watched the snake faced thing rise out of the cauldron, he couldn't help but shake his head. Harry sucked at potions. He could only blame 40% of his failures on the Slytherins. Sometimes he was distracted, by Ron, or Neville blowing up a cauldron, or Snape's looming harassment. But potions were very finicky. The smallest contamination would through the whole thing off. And apparently Wormtail wasn't any better at potions than Harry.

"It's no ussse shaking your head in denial. I have arisssssen and now you will die," spoke the man-thing . . . Voldemort.

"I'm not denying your presence; I'm pitying you on the quality of your helpers. If I hadn't had ample proof over the last four years of the stupidity wizards in Britton, I'd wonder how you had achieved so much with so little in the last war." Harry continued to shake his head slowly.

"Wormtail has bested you before, and he has served his purpose today."

At this Harry had to snort. "He completely bollixed up the ritual and contaminated your potion. You might want to retrieved your potion master soon and see if anything can be done to neutralize the contamination and minimize the side-effects."

"What are you babbling on about? I stand here in my own body, with my own magic." At this statement he cast the crucio on Harry proving that he had his magic.

Harry managed not to scream, it hurt, but not as much as dying via basilisk venom. When the spell cut off, he took a deep breath and ignoring the minor tremors said, "I'm talking about the fact that he was supposed to add "flesh of the servant" but he cut off his entire hand consisting of blood, bone and flesh. And instead of cutting it off over the cauldron, he dropped in on the ground first then picked it up and added it to the mix. So there was definitely dirt on it, possibly grass and other animal droppings."

At one point in his life Tom Riddle was a brilliant student. He never sought a mastery in potions, but he knew enough to understand the potential complications.

He stalked over to Wormtail who was kneeling on the ground after cauterizing his own wrist. "Issss thissss true?"

"Sorry Master, sorry, sorry." Wormtail stuttered. "I shouldn't have dropped it in the dirt, so sorry master."

" Oh! In my second year when Lucius tried to dispose of your diary, I was bitten while killing the basilisk and healed by phoenix tears. They may still be in my blood stream. Since you did use my blood, you should have that analyzed also."

Voldemort screamed in rage. Yes, his followers were truly incompetent, but Wizarding Britton was populated with sheeple, he could still win this.


End file.
